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Topic: White City (Read 11879 times)

It was called the White City for a reason, and a very good one. Not because it's buildings were white- in fact the architecture of the city tended to be of the dark, glossy stone found nearby, and almost exclusively of a gothic style, favoring high flying buttresses, stained-glass windows, and other magnificent but foreboding makes. The pallid light of moon and stars tended to make it look dark, brooding, almost threatening, mixed with a terrible but beautiful and glorious aspect. The buildings spoke of shadows, they spoke of intrigue, they spoke of power, and they spoke-quietly but perceptibly- of grimness. Nor was it called the White City because of the moral righteousness of its inhabitants. This was no shining city on a hill, no place of light and cheer, no utopia. There were less beggars or homeless persons on the streets then other cities, but that was primarily due to the fact that in such a climate and such a city, such people inevitably did not last long. No, simply, it was called the White City because of the snow. There was always snow in the region about the White City and almost always inside as well. The trees that dotted its few parks and the country outside were tough, cold-resistant things, generally evergreens. Even the flowers had evolved to bloom regardless of snow. The rare crops had become too tough for the frost to kill them and had evolved ways to suck the moisture out of the snow itself, and draw their life from the light of the stars. It has always been night in the White City, and most think that it will always be so, regardless of anything, for night is its essence and its life. The city is not a natural one. It is a small world, a microdimension consisting of the city and its surroundings. No one knows exactly when the White City came to be, and few have explored its surrounding countryside too greatly. The city is a dimensional crossroads, a lawless place where persons from many different worlds mingle. However, while the city itself has no laws, one shadowy organization, the Gatekeepers, control the exit from the White City. Almost no one comes there by design. They wind up there accidentally, and once they have arrived, it is unlikely they will leave for a long, long time, for the Gatekeepers relish their power and drive hard bargains, ones that few will willingly take. Worst of all, it seems impossible to age beyond maturity in the White City, so deaths from age are unknown, as are disease or hunger. One can suffer, as suffering is common there, but one cannot die save by being slain, and even then, your hapless ghost haunts the place, no matter what horrors you may experience. Creatures of all races, creeds, and status live in the White City, and nearly all want above all else nothing more then to get out. Murder, theft, rape, hideous cruelty, and torment are commonplace, everyday occurrences. Money to buy food, weaponry, clothing, and raw material is rare-though the odd wine and alcohol brewed outside seems everywhere, causing alcoholism- and desperately sought and battled for between rival factions or small parties. The City is a place of horrifying wealth and terrible poverty. Creatures make alliances they cannot possibly do outside of this place, for they find in their common suffering a bond that can grow to trust and friendship. One needs friends very badly in the White City. The City has been the cause of many unlikely conversions from darkness to light and light to darkest evil. That is the way of the White City, and perhaps the one truly good thing the place has ever caused.

And now you have arrived. It does not matter how, or why, you got here. The Gatekeepers do not care. The price they will demand, inevitably, is too much for you to pay. Now you must wait, and try to find a way to sacrifice something of sufficient value for the Gatekeepers to be content. Or maybe there is another way. Whispers speak of almost anything being able to be found in the White City, if you look hard enough, and know where to look...

((I will not be 'gming' for this, as there is no 'overlaying' plot beyond simple survival and escape. Basically this will consist of sub-plots created by characters. Whomever is running the subplot at the moment will be GMing. In addition, this is designed to be fantasy-oriented. You MAY include more high-tech weaponry, but it MUST be balanced-I want no super-lasers or nanomachines, as you must be equal to your fantasy-oriented counterparts. Any and all races are open, if you can come up with them, and two members of the same race might be from different worlds and considerably different.

Secondly, I want complex characters. I do NOT want a simple character design. While the White City is not Hell (you did nothing wrong) it is not a happy place, and in general those who live there have complex motivations in the outside world. I would like to have 'apparent age', 'gender', 'race', 'appearance', and the 'price' that the Gatekeepers want of you. It MUST be something unspeakable to your character; that is how the Gatekeepers work. Notably, I would prefer it if characters, while powerful enough to get by, are not on the upper scale of power. Though you can't die of hunger or disease or thirst, you can perish quite easily from a knife to the throat, and it's meant to stay that way.))

Luke stood impaitently in the waiting him thinking he paced back and forth, his 6'1" lanky body cast a dark shadow on the floor. These basterds wanted his only spare krana crystal and his Life Force Sword, the prior he might've surrundered, but the later they wouldn't take from him only if they pried it from his cold dead hands. Luke's human heritage showed strongly in him but the night elf came out a little in the slight blue color that seemed to constantly haunt his skin and in his eyes which were a dark indigo color. His hair was a dark rudy blonde, that usualy was kept trimmed very short, but by now was shaggy and just below his ears. A krana rifle was strapped on his back a metal lead shield hid the krana crystal.

Strapped around his waist was his prize possesion the Life Force Sword, it had been crafted by a night elf who he had fallen in love with long ago when he was in the wild north lands of his home planet Higara. It was grown from wood and two branches weaved around eachother for the handle and ended in a narrow slit where the life blade coporialized, the bottom hilt was a wooden disk inlaid with three ruby red krana crystals.

He glared darkly at the door to his waiting room, just maybe if he could get some one's help maybe they could sneak past the Gatekeepers or attack them and over power them. He paced the room some more and searched his thoughts of times past when he'd been stuck, maybe there was a hypergate here, but he didn't know the code language to dial out of here.

Luke shrugged his rifle off and set it next to a chair and sat down, well this waiting room certainly reminded him of many prisons he'd seen in his life time. Dank, windows were small, door was made of metal, stone walls. Luke tried to remeber what he had been doing here or what mission he'd been on, how did I come to here?

Luke remembered going through the Hypergate but he had been with others and they were going to Teotechwanan not here. What had the Gatekeeper said, "White City." Luke muttered.

Andy wore a long, faded duster over her equally worn clothes. Her brown hair was messily tied back. She was mostly brown. Clothes brown with the dust of years of hard living, brown hair that she didn't take proper care of, skin burned brown by the sun. Only her eyes were colored, a startling green, like emeralds in the sunlight. What a contrast she made, then, in this perpetually frozen land. She was of a land of perpetual summer, where the ground was baked hard and water was a precious thing. She didn't like it here.Well, to be sure, no one liked it here. She didn't even remember how she had gotten here. All she knew was that the price the d**ned Gatekeepers asked was too high. Far too high. It was a good thing, though, that she knew how to make bullets, and she could get powder here. She wasn't fool enough to go about unarmed. She had arrived with a pal. Her pal had learned the lesson for her, and she had buried him on her second day. But her Winchester was slung over one shoulder and she had a wicked looking Bowie knife tucked into her belt, and a smaller, but no less effective, knife in her boot.She sighed. Well, no sense in brooding. She briefly wondered what would be going on today.

You don't need to write a char bio if you don't want, just what I asked for.Sho'daun Race: Polar Goblin Apparent Age: 22 Gender: Male Price: Both his sense of right and wrong and his ability to laugh or cry The Goblins of Sho's world are not the crude, wicked, stupid things of other worlds. Instead, this cunning and wise folk are about 5' tall on average, with 6' being the highest known ever. They tend to be slightly stooped and a bit more curved in the back then humans, but not enough to look ugly. In fact, none of their features imply astonishing ugliness or beauty as a racial feature-they are humanlike in their appearance, though generally more feral-featured. Polar Goblins have pale blue skin and shining white hair, which the males generally wear short-cropped and the females long, in a single braid or straight. Their forearms are somewhat thicker then a human's, though only barely, and their wiry, slender bodies possess incredible strength and vitality-an average Polar Goblin can lift a man easily. They are good with machines, which they have developed well, and moderately proficient with magic, and their alignments are generally of a good or neutral cast. Polar Goblins tend to have husky or deep voices, though they speak in low tones-when they try to shout their voices swiftly become shrill.

Sho'Daun is dressed in a black leatherlike jumpsuit covering him from neck to toe, though it is a bit ragged now, with metal plates designed to stop bullets or sword slashes sewn onto the vital areas. He carries a heavy Revolver rifle on his back and also owns both a wicked-looking cutlass of blackened steel, and a revolver pistol of high sophistication and powerfully enchanted-it will never run out of its silver bullets. While he knows little magic himself he has a solid grasp of magical principles and is a quick learner and study, being something of a jack-of-all-trades. He is a sociable, cheerful, somewhat charismatic sort, and he sees the best in people over the worst, but he is not naive and he has learned much about the White City in his tenure of three weeks here. He is not particularly opposed to theft or pilfering what he needs, and he sometimes frequents the company of disreputable men and women, though he does not seem to hire the 'services' of such. He seems to simply like being around them as much as being about a noble. He also carries a small flute and he knows how to play it.

Sho'daun is a solitary goblin adventurer from his world. When he encountered a strange portal on his own world, his natural curiosity stepped in and he entered without a care. A most foolish move! The portal was a rupture to the White City, and Sho was trapped. Finding himself adrift on the strange streets, he was informed by the Gatekeepers that the only way he could ever leave was if he sacrificed both his sense of right and wrong and his ability to laugh or cry. Sho refused, of course, and since has wandered the streets. He has spent about three weeks in this hostile place, and though the climate does not bother him, the lack of food or drink or hope has begun to wear him down. While he had money, he spends it primarily on reloads for his powerful Revolver rifle, a powerful thing with an attack much like a shotgun with solidbore bullets. Sho has been forced to fight repeatedly and is running on short rations, and while he is adamant in his refusal to accept the price of his liberation, he is beginning to give up hope of ever leaving._________________

Sho'daun eased himself by the door and took a deep breath, caressing the long, cool barrel of his rifle. He flicked the revolving bullet chamber. Four clicks. Four out of six shots left. Time to shovel out some of his rapidly dwindling cash.

He was hungry. Until now he had no idea what true hunger felt like. Now he did. Poking his head about the alleyway corner, he took a good look around and felt for the bandage at his side. It was wet and dark. Lovely. Painful, but not lethal.

Taking a deep breath and hoping that no one would shoot or stab him as he dashed across, Sho crouched low, slung the rifle on his back, and ran for his life across the crossing, taking shelter behind a tall drift of snow.

"Thank the gods," he muttered. He had already been hurt once and did not care to be so again.

Luke suddenly slammed is head against the wall, "Gaaa how could I have been so stupid. Here I come you alien basterds." Luke whipped the Life Sword off his belt and sliced the door in half and kicked it in. He burst into the hall way and sliced the head off a guard standing outside. Then split the other in half. The hallway held many other doors, he sliced opened one and found nothing, he went to the next door. "If anyone is in here they better stand back," he cut the door in half and kicked it in.

He peered in and saw nothing, continueing on he ran down that hall , he sliced and kicked in another door, which gave way to stair well. Luke ran down at the bottom a dark was doubled reinforced his sword only weekened. He willed his sword to it's normal state and the blade disappeared, he grabbed his Krana Rifle and pumped two blasts into the door. Which melted on the first and then blew outward, Luke dove through and shot to other guards at the fall end of the courtyard with red blasts. A big doot stood at the end he fired five shots into and a hole melted big enough for him to dive through, which Luke did. He rolled through the snow and out into a city street he ran down the street and shot another gray clad figure. He kept on running through snow banked streets adventualy his legs grew stiff, he saw a blue skinned fellow and a woman in brown leathers, he decided they looked different enough that he shouldn't shoot them, he came up to them panting hard.

Andy was hungry. She couldn't rightly remember when the last time she had eaten was. She forced it down. She wandered along the streets, vaguely wondering if she'd find anything to steal that would be worth it. She'd quickly learned that there really was no such concept of 'outlaw' here, and her ethics had suffered. There were things she needed, food and powder and lead for bullets and paper to make cartriges. And she needed her gun service, only there was no gunsmith around that she trusted. Well, she didn't trust anyone here. There was some commotion going on, someone was trying to break out. Andy didn't pay him much mind. She'd seen people try before. Maybe one had made it, if he wasn't dead. As she passed a snowbank, she noticed a fellow who looked a little worse for wear. Blue skinned fellow, taller than she was. Didn't know what type of person he was. But he looked like he was in trouble. Andy hadn't lost her sense of compassion, that was part of the reason she was still here. But she hadn't lost her sense, either. She cautiously stepped closer, her Bowie knife in her hand. She could throw it pretty good, and she might have to. She started to ask him if he was all right, then decided that would be a bad idea. Finally, she said, "That's a mighy impressive gun." It was too, and there was genuine awe in her voice.

She'd been a princess once, before the thrice d**ned demon tricked her. That heritage still showed in Crysta's frame and clothing, battered though it was. No commoner could ever afford the finely crafted, well fitting armor, nor the silken suit she wore underneath it. Nor could they obtain the blades that hung from her waist, blades that even here shone with their holy light. More than once, a few had tried to take them from her. Today, however, no one had yet dared. Of course, it was still 'morning', or at least not long ofter she had awoken.

As she strapped the final bit of her armor about herself, she stepped through the door onto the balcony over a plaza. Her plaza. It had been far more difficult to accomplish than she had expected, but now, she had a base of operations. Still, with only 20.. now 19 men and women to her 'command', she couldn't hold much. It was certainly no army, closer, much closer, she was forced to admit to herself, to a street gang. Her 'plaza' was nothing more than the crossroads between four buildings, not even a city block. But she'd managed to scrounge what she needed to put crude fences between the buildings. They would'nt hold much back, but they'd make an awful lot of noise as they went. Now, she just needed to find reliable sources of food and ammunition. Once she had that, she could start making proper expeditions to find another way out of White City.

Ho now, what's this? A pale blue thing scurrying across the edge of her territory?

Sho'daun was grimacing from his wound, he lost a bit of blood, but he knew it wouldn't shake him if he came into anymore combat. He just shrugged the pain away. When a young looking human walked up to him with a knife in hand. She was talking about his gun. "Humans....Yes well, it's one of my own make." Looking around he noticed someone running towards them, calling out to them.

This'll prove to be interesting...But if things get nasty I always have these..

Sho fumbled with small little black spheres in his pocket, while getting ahold of his rifle with the other.

Luke stopped a few feet from the two, "Whoa, I come in peace," using the quaint old phrase. Luke kept his rifle ready but not aimed at them. "You two stuck here too? I just broke out of something that may pss for a jail here I think."

Luke kinda did a double take with his eyes both of these people looked very strange, one a woman wore old leathers and looked a little worse for ware but Luke doubted he looked much better. His camoflage jumpsuit had sveral rips and part of it was burned from the backfire of the KPEB (Krana Produced Energy Blast) when he shot the door.

The other was a strange blue man, Luke had never seen the such of him before. Both of them carried weapons similar to MAP rifles but they looked different and the barrels were way to short.

"I'm Luke," he said. Luke looked at at the blue man and noticed he was grimacing in pain, and there were some blood stains on his clothes. "Hey, do you need some meds, I've got some in bag.

He swung the powerpack off his back and opened it and pulled out a medpak, and held it out to the fellow.

(Name: Eremotus the Shade; Age: 215; Male Former Human/Spectre; Price: Complete loss of the memories of his wife and child.)

Eremotus the Shade vaguely examined the deeply-rotting fruit of a dilapidated stall in one of many dying marketplaces of the White City. His spectral hands passed over and through the fruit, black and swollen with rot. Death dulled the senses; colors leeched, tastes blanded, sounds echoing and vague, feelings nearly nonexistant. His eyes drifted over the stall, a collapsing affair of warped, dark wood and filthy cloth. The cold, airy snowflakes drifted from a sky of slate, constant reminders of the nameless sterility of the White City.Eremotus looked up at the shopkeeper, a mousy, scar-faced woman with watery, red-veined eyes who shivered in the chill, pleading him with her eyes to purchase something."It would be a kindness..." thought Eremotus distractedly, auxiliary thoughts flitting and fluttering around that one like ghosts in the wind.From the pocket of his ghostly robe, he removed four dull copper coins, which he slid across the warped wooden counter."Bless thee, good sir!" chattered the woman, gathering her tattered rags around her and covetously snatching up the coppers.Eremotus selected one of the fruit-carcasses, a collapsing pomegranate. He had bought it only as a charity to the woman. He had no use for food.As he drifted forth from the stall into the snowy lane, he passed the corrupted mass, splitting with rot, to a chancre-faced beggar.His ephemeral feet made no prints in the snow of the way as he stepped along. Watery, mocking sunlight slid through a gap in the clouds, reaching through his transparent corpus.Onward he went, and slowly wept immaterial tears for his lost wife and child.

OOC: There can be any amount of people to this, this story is supposed to be made up of character side plots, I don't dm, just don't do anything crazy and we'll be okay. Anyone can join, and as many as want to._____Sho looked at the man, few were so caring to simply offer up precious supplies in this forsaken place. He didn't quite trust the man yet."No thanks...I have my own ways of dealing with wounds."He looked back and forth between the woman and man, studying them. Both capable fighters, powerful weapons they controlled as well.Not really wanting to leave this time to an akward silence, he spoke up.

"You find that strange?" Sho pointed to a tall tower, rivaling the height of the palace the guadians reside in. It's surrounded by other tall builings, with the tower as the obvious center. But they looked a bit worn, and no one here had ever visited the place. "I've been traveling towards it for a week...but never have I gotten close to it, nor found where it actually is. It's inside the city for sure, but I just can seem to get any closer to the place."

Andy looked where he was pointing. "I've seen it. Never really felt any desire to go look at it up close." She shifted her rifle. Neither had proved hostile yet, but she wasn't fool enough to think that meant they wouldn't. She had known to be careful in cases like this ever since she was a kid. "I suppose we could go see if we could find it. I sure as hell ain't got anythin' better to do."

Luke shrugged, "Soot yourself, but take care of that quickly or an infection will set in," Luked where Sho was pointing since he'd just broken out of the guardian's palace he hadn,'t really looked around the landscape too much, "Maybe its bewitced to look like it gets far away and maybe we walk by in real life with out realizing it. This does seem a queer place, eh?"

Char Info: Erika Silas, Apparent Age: 27, Real age:35+, Human Female. Price to leave: The life of her first born

She leaned over the still warm corpse, the snow around it red with blood. She checked for a pulse and felt none. "Good." she whispered under her breath as she stood and wiped her bloody sword clean on the tattered rags that her victim wore. She stood out, black against the whiteness of the snow on the edge of the city. She sheathed her blade, the other already in it's place, as she headed for the cover of the buildings and alleyways. Upon hearing a commotion up ahead she pulled her guns as she readied to turn the corner, only to be met by a fence. "This wasn't here yesterday." she commented to nobody. Looking above it she saw a woman standing on a balcony over the barricaded area. She studied the woman quickly before turning to find a safer way back. She smiled at herself."Another fool who thinks that they can overpower us." she whispered to herself knowing this leader would probably be her next assignment.

Upon reaching the main hideout, which looked like every other building, Erika let out a sigh of relief, as the streets were always dangerous and making it home alive everyday was an accomplishment reminding herself that she had lived in this city for far too long. She stepped inside and nodded at the guards who returned the gesture. "How was your date?" one guard teased."I don't think it'll go anywhere." she responded jokingly to the familiar comment as she started up the large open staircase, nodding to the guards on the landings as she always did. Finally reaching the door that she had walked to many times before she nodded at the guards and went in. She squeezed past all the people milling about, trading goods and stories of what they remember from before coming to this place. They were all trusted members of the Society. She found Bryon in the back room as always, going over his maps, and plans. A young boy about six years old practiced his writing lessons in the corner, but upon seeing her he jumped up and ran to her, hugging her leg. "Erika!" he squealed. "Hey Emory, why don't you go and play in your room," She said gently as she bent down, "I have to talk to Bryon." The child nodded, happy to be relieved of his work, and ran out of the room. She turned to the man who hadn't moved his stare from his work. "The job's done." She stated plainly."That's all?" he looked up at her. He was too strong looking of a man to be sitting at a ragged desk. He could tell she had more to say. "Somebody has blocked off some roads and made herself a small fort of it with a small force to guard it." she reported. "I know." he stated returning to his map. "I got the report a couple of hours ago. I may send someone to discuss an alliance, unless they prove to be threatening.""Ok, I'll be going then." she said as she turned to leave. "Get some rest, you have tomorrow off. After that you may have an important assignment." he called after her. She made her way through the people in the damp living room and went out into the stairway. Nodding at the guards again she walked up two more stories to her living quarters. Only important members of the gang got to live in the building, and she was grateful just to have a roof over her head. Her room was damp, dark and smelly but she had gotten used to it. She removed her weapons, leaving a gun beside her bed, lay down and fell into an exhausted sleep.

"I'm sure I don't know. But we ought to find somewhere to bunk down for the night. It's a bad, bad, idea to wander around after dark." Andy wandered in the direction of that fool fence she'd seen earlier. "I got a place, and you're welcome to share it. It don't even have too many rats."

"Na I'm going to scrounge for somestuff and try to find a Hypergate if there is one here maybe it'll get us out of here" , Luke decided to leave. He wanted to explore the city to just not discuss every aspect of how to explore it. He packed up his things and walked along the road, he checked the charge Krana Rifle and continued past an ally.

"Hey Newb, first time I've seen you around here." A voice followed by snickers came to him as ten odd individuals stepped into the street, the leader was a big gruff man. Luke didn't even phase for a second he'd seen bullies before and they didn't stop till you did something lurid.

Luke aimed and charred a hole in the large thug's face. Without even a scream he fell forward dead as a nail. The other nine were smaller, like scavengers, but looked wearily at the rifle Luke carried with fear. Luke smiled, was just about to continue on his way when he felt cold steel press into his side burning into his flesh. He grunted with surprise and shuddered with pain raising his rifle he smashed it on the sneaky little assasin's head spraying blood about. Then he started shooting at the group till they ran off.

Luke stumbled down the street his side was patched, he saw a young girl about 23 dart inside a building he walked a few more steps and across the street. Stopping for a second ti press more gauze on his wound he blacked out and thudded against the door.

The two guards heard a thud against the door and readied their guns. Nothing. One guard went and opened the door, prepared for somebody to spring at them, only to find an elf man collapsed and bleeding on the ground. "Help me bring him in." the guard said to the other as he grabbed the elf under the arms and they dragged him inside. "Go tell Bryon, and send down another guard on your way up."

The dark elf was put in a dark, damp room on a rusty bed with ragged, but clean sheets on the second floor. His wound patched, his wepons confiscated, and a guard posted at his door.

OOC: You don't need to stay in a party or anything, come up with a creative side plot to go through with another char. You don't need to follow any basic rules. Make up your own buisness, people, whatever, but most of all have fun! (And don't go jumping into someone else's side plot without permission).

Sho watched as the man walked away, several minutes later he heard shots rang out from that direction. "Well, don't take this in a wrong way, but I simply don't trust you. I have my own place...but I feel that in someway that place will provide an exit to this miserable place. I don't know...but I'll investigate it further tomorrow." Sho spoke to the girl as he began his way down another alley way. He needed to get somewhere where he can patch himself up.

He went down a few more streets, as alert as ever, rifle in hand. He made his way to the building he stayed at...a small building, connected to two larger ones. He went inside to see his familiar things. He paid for the place, the building next to him was a "hotel", the owner who also owned Sho's little shack. He only paid a bit of food, the man was kind, battle-hardened, but kind. He had become good friends with the man. But now he sat, contenplating what he had found out today, and what he would do tomorrow.